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Everyone thought that Arthur was coldhearted and emotionless. They failed to realize that it was necessary as the soon-to-be-head of a mafia family. The family and outside world only ever saw his apathy and callousness. Arthur could order a man's death in the same breath as ordering his breakfast without batting an eye. That was the side of Arthur that most people saw.

Few people saw the side of him once he goes home or has a free weekend. Only his most trusted bodyguards and true family saw him leave the persona and cruelty behind. Only they saw him smile and greet Marceau, his partner, at the door. Only they saw him laughing and smiling while playing with their adoptive children.

It was only ever Marceau that heard him say, "I won't let them have any part of this life," when they were watching the boys play in the yard. It was a sentiment shared only between them. The bodyguards and staff may have guessed, but they would never hear the words from him.

"It'll be hard when they get older and start to understand," Marceau sighed. They were only six and seven, so they didn't realize what the people around them did. Once they did, it would be a series of fights, most likely.

"They may end up hating me, but… Nothing can be done about it." He wouldn't let them become as tainted by the mafia as he was. It was certainly self-sabotage that they were being raised to have such strong morals.

Marceau smiled and wrapped an arm around Arthur. "They could never hate you. I imagine there will be anger and confusion, but they'll realize, eventually, you never had a choice. At some point, they'll see what I see. That the things you do hurt you more than the family could ever guess."

Arthur wasn't sure about all that. Marshall was already showing his stubborn streak. Even though Louis may not have been quite so obstinate, they were both mulish children. It would only get worse as they got older. Not that Arthur would ever be one to talk about stubbornness. "I suppose we'll see…"

The melancholy that had fallen over Arthur was rapidly shattered by two filthy children jumping on him. "Come play with us!" Marshall said, ever more bold and demanding that his brother.

"I thought you were playing with Gilbert?" Arthur asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"He's too tired to keep playing," Louis said with a big smile.

They wore Gilbert out. Gilbert, the ever energized and vicious bodyguard whose version of working out was running a marathon. Arthur would have laughed if the thought wasn't daunting. How much energy could two children have? "Ah… Well, then, maybe it's time to take a break for lunch," Arthur suggested. Food was always a good distraction and lead-in for naps.

"Ooh, yeah! Can we have crepes?!" Marshall asked, practically bouncing up and down.

Sugar would probably not be the best idea, but Marceau had a hard time saying no to them. "Only if you go clean up first. I'll have no filthy children at my table," he said with a smile. There was whining at his half-order, but both kids ran off into the house.

It was mere moments before they heard another bodyguard who stayed with the boys at home yell at them for tracking mud and leaves into the house. Arthur laughed as he stood up with Marceau. He used to love the quietness of his house before adopting the kids, but he found that he loved the constant noise and chaos more. It was such a change from what he considering work.

It was a situation in which no one bothered to point out the obvious. If any of Arthur's many enemies realized what the boys meant to him, it would turn into a madhouse. It was just one of those things the adults never discussed. Just like how no one ever pointed out that all of the staff that watched and took care of the boys where… at least trained to kill or incapacitate threats. And they were all highly trusted by Arthur and Marceau, of course.

Marceau grew up with Gilbert and Atanase had saved Arthur's hide more than a few times. They both had their own reasons for wanting to get out of the immediate line of fire, so it had been perfect to put them in charge of the kids. The boys loved them, so it had worked out for everyone.

The only major complaint was the fact that Marceau could never be sure if Arthur would come home at night. It was one of the things brought up that night while they were laying in bed. "Arthur… We need to figure something out," he said while combing through Arthur's hair.

"Mhh… We need to sleep," he mumbled.

"I'm serious. I never know when it's the last time I'm going to see you," Marceau said with a frown. "And the boys don't have the slightest idea what's going on."

"Marceau, I can't just… quit," Arthur sighed. "You know that better than anyone. We had to fake your death, remember." He poked Marceau in the side where the scar remained from a near-death experience years ago.

Marceau frowned at him even more. It was almost a scowl. "Yes, I know… I'm just…"

"Worrying. I know," Arthur said as he sat up to kiss Marceau. "I can start slowing down. Putting more effort into the clean operations. Take a more… backseat management role." It would be hard for him, but… he didn't enjoy what he did. He hated it, in fact. So he would be glad to start changing things. Even if it would be a few decades before they could even think about being completely out of the gritty and shady.

It obviously wouldn't be easy for him to do. But it would be better for everyone. Even if some enemies would never go away, this would make them all safer in the long run. "And you'll actually do it this time? Not like last time where you placated me?" he asked with a smile, but a warning tone.

Arthur grimaced and nodded, "Yes, yes… I mean it this time. For Marshall and Louis… And particularly for you." Without them, he was nothing. So if something ever happened to them because of his obstinance, he would never forgive himself. He still felt guilt gnaw at him whenever he saw Marceau's scars.

"Maybe then you can be home more than long enough to eat and sleep," Marceau mused. That might be one of the best parts. Actually being able to enjoy time with Arthur. "We can actually do things with the boys that isn't just playing in the yard or house."

"That'd be nice," Arthur sighed as he rested his head on Marceau's shoulder.

After a moment, Marceau asked, "You really are tired aren't, you? We can talk more in the morning."

"Mhh-hmm… I love you, Marceau…"

"I love you, too. Now go to sleep, you fool."

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